A Time for War
by Southern Steel
Summary: "The Four Horsemen made their mark on the world last month with their daring robberies and escape from the FBI, but the time as come for their magic to be exposed for the trickery it is. Tomorrow night I, Thaddeus Bradley, will reveal the Horsemen's tricks and the identity of the mastermind behind the entire thing, the fifth Horseman." Bradley is out of jail and is out for revenge.
1. Behind Locked Doors

_**Before I introduce this story, I want to apologize to anyone who was following my other story "Now You Don't." I took it down last night because I honestly had no clue where I was going with it and didn't like what I was writing. Plus I wanted to focus on this story, so I replaced "Now You Don't" with "A Time for War." My apologies. **_

_** Now, this story has been bugging me ever since I saw the movie the first time last month sometime. I absolutely love the movie-my favorite movie ever, I believe-but I just don't see how Thaddeus Bradley could be kept in jail on the evidence provided. He had perfect alibis thanks to his camera crew and Arthur Tressler. So that is where this story is coming from. This story is going to focus more on Dylan Rhodes then on the Horsemen, at least at first, but don't worry the Horsemen will be a major part of the story! I hope you enjoy this short introductory chapter. :) **_

_**Characters/Pairings: All, mentions of Dylan/Alma.  
Rating/Warnings: T for future violence; Spoilers if you haven't seen the movie.  
Setting: One month after the final scene of the movie.**_

Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, form, or fashion, own anything remotely connected to **Now You See Me.**

* * *

_Chapter 1: Behind Locked Doors_

_"Once I rose above the noise and confusion just to get a glimpse beyond  
this illusion! I was soaring ever higher, but I flew to high."  
-Carry On My Wayward Son_

* * *

The sound of metal doors clanging shut and the loud _thud_ of the deadbolts locking echoed down the silent hall. A man, briefcase in hand revealing him to be a lawyer, walked down the hall, his footsteps echoing eerily in the silence. He looked neither left nor right, but headed straight for the farthest cell on the left. He stood in front of the steel door and looking through the barred window at the cell's sole occupant.

"Well? There was no greeting, no asking how his case was going.

"All is going as planned, sir." The lawyer responded. "It should be only a matter of days before you are released."

"And what of the other business?" The prisoner asked, getting to his feet and moving to look the lawyer in the eyes.

"On schedule, sir," The lawyer looked around nervously, but continued with his report. "The Horsemen have split up, but we were able to locate them and a man has been placed on each of them. They're just waiting for their orders to act."

"Good, good." The prisoner's eyes narrowed. "What of Rhodes?"

"Still with the FBI, sir." The lawyer lowered his voice, fearful of being overheard though the cell block was empty. "And fighting against your release. No one suspects him of any involvement with the Horsemen."

"And his cell phone?"

"Successfully bugged without his awareness, sir."

"Excellent." The prisoner stepped back from the door. "Contact Mr. Tressler and inform him that we need to have a talk as soon as I am released."

"Right away, sir."

"Until next time, Mr. West."

"Mr Bradley."

Thaddeus Bradley turned away from the door and sat down on the old cot that had served as his bed for the past month. A smile broke across his face as the footsteps of the lawyer echoed down the hall. Everything was going according to plan. Soon he would be a free man and then he would have his revenge.


	2. The Die is Cast

_** Well, I wasn't going to upload this chapter until later this week, but when I saw the wonderful reviews left by MissAdventurer, Vampire-Diaries-Addict-Forever, and Icewings13, I just had to give you one more chapter today. :) I'm trying to stay ahead in this story and already have up to chapter 8 written, but I'm going to limit the updates to one a day...maybe. Sometimes I get a bit to excited to share my stories haha **_

_** Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it gets you excited for the rest of the story! :)**_

_**Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me.**_

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_Chapter 2: The Die is Cast_

_"Hold it together, birds of a feather, nothing but lies  
and crooked wings. I have the answer,  
spreading the cancer..."  
-"Evil Angel" Breaking Benjamin_

* * *

"_Yesterday morning, Thaddeus Bradley—host of __Unmasked__, a show devoted to the revealing of magician's tricks—was released after a month in prison under the belief that he was the mastermind behind the Four Horsemen. The Horsemen are, of course, the magicians who took the world by storm last month when they robbed the Credit Republican Bank of Pairs, multi-millionaire Arthur Tressler, and Elkhorn Safes. Bradley was arrested under the suspicion of plotting the robberies when the contents of one of Elkhorn's safes were found in his vehicle. _

"_It was a clever frame up," says Albert West, Bradley's attorney, "But that is exactly what it was: a frame up. Evidence has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Bradley could not possibly have been the fifth Horsemen and had Agent Rhodes looked closer before simply ordering the arrest, he would have seen that and this all could have been avoided." _

_ Dylan Rhodes, the FBI agent in charge of the Four Horsemen's case, could not be contacted for comment. The Four Horsemen still remain at large, though they are down one member after Jack Wilder was killed before their final stunt, and are wanted by both the FBI and Interpol. If anyone has any information as to their whereabouts, please contact the following number." _

Thaddeus Bradley closed the newspaper with a satisfied smile. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. It felt good to be free once more and soon it would feel even better when the Horsemen took his place behind bars. All five of them.

"We meet again, Mr. Bradley."

"Ah, Mr. Tressler, I've been expecting you." He nodded to the seat across from him. "Please, sit."

The multi-millionaire glared down at the other man, but moved to the seat.

"What is this about, Mr. Bradley?" Tressler asked, by-passing the niceties. "I am a very busy man."

"Not too busy to discuss our deal, I presume." Bradley's words were nice enough, but the chill in his voice revealed his opinion of the man.

"What deal?" Tressler asked.

"The deal were you offered me ten million dollars to ruin the Four Horsemen."

"Well it's a little late for that, now isn't it?" Tressler snapped. "The Horsemen are gone!"

"That's debatable." Bradley shrugged. "We made a deal that if I could ruin the Horsemen's image you would give me double what I stood to make. I now stand to make twice the five million I did before, but I'll be kind enough to let our deal stand at ten."

"You are not getting a single penny from me!" Tressler fumed. "The Horsemen are gone, vanished to who knows where and they've left behind a legacy of being modern Robin Hoods! Our deal was off the minute the Horsemen escaped!"

"What if they haven't escaped?" Bradley questioned, smug grin on his face. "How much would they be worth to you?"

"What are you implying, Mr. Bradley?" Tressler asked coldly.

"I know where the Horsemen are." Bradley revealed. "All five of them."

"Five?" Tressler repeated. "There are only three."

"So you think." Bradley chuckled. "Four escaped. Wilder never really died."

"And how do you know that?" Tressler asked, studying the man across from him.

"Oh I just know." Bradley replied, waving his hand. "Just like I know who the mastermind behind the robberies is."

"Who is it?" Tressler leaned forward slightly, his attention fully caught.

"All in good time, Mr. Tressler, all in good time." Bradley said, loving the power he held over the man. "Now, how much is it worth to you?"

"If you can get me the Horsemen, Mr. Bradley," Tressler said slowly, "I will make you richer than even you can imagine."

Thaddeus Bradley smiled and took a sip of his coffee.

"Mr. Tressler, you have yourself a deal."


	3. Crap

_**Not the best chapter ever, but the next one gets better! (At least, in my opinion it does haha) **_

_**And as a side note, I don't know how the FBI works so I don't know if they would really sort tips like I have them doing. About the only thing I know about the FBI is what it stands for and what I see in movies, so if I get any facts wrong, please just bare with me for the sake of the story. :) **_

_**Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me. **_

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_Chapter 3: Crap_

He had thought that once his revenge was through and Thaddeus Bradley was behind bars he would leave the FBI and go back to preforming magic. Yet here he was, sitting in the bustling office of the FBI with nothing but paperwork to look forward to. Agent Rhodes sighed, briefly wondering why he was still with the FBI, but he shook the question off as soon as it came. The Eye had its reasons, even if they were a mystery to him.

Dylan lifted one of the papers and read it quickly. It was a tip called in from Kansas saying that Daniel Atlas had been spotted performing in the streets. He frowned before placing the paper in the useless tips file. He would have to call Daniel later and make sure he was lying low. They couldn't afford one of them to be caught and arrested, not when he might not be able to help them.

After being accepted into the Eye and jumping on the carousel that night, the Four Horsemen had been separated. It was only a temporary split—the Eye had more plans for the Horsemen after all—but a necessary action. People knew their faces it would be practically impossible to blend into a crowd together. So they were sent to opposite sides of the country with orders to keep low and limit the public magic. Henley had been sent to Southern Florida, Daniel to Kansas, Merritt was in Massachusetts, and Jack was in California. They were all to remain were they were, contacting no one but Dylan, and to keep a low profile until the hype of their robberies wore off.

That's where Dylan fit in. As the agent on the Horsemen's case, he had made it his mission to comb through all the tips in his effort to find the Horsemen. That was the official story, at least. In reality he was removing the tips that would lead to the Horsemen and leaving the ones that would send the law on a wild goose chase.

"Have you found anything?" It was Agent Fuller.

"Not yet." He answered, running his hands across his face tiredly. "There have been sightings in every state except Hawaii and Wyoming."

"Any concrete enough to deserve checking out?" Fuller asked, picking a page at random and scanning it.

"Texas, Louisiana, and Maine." Dylan answered, handing the agent a small stack of papers.

Fuller sighed.

"I don't know how many more of these bogus tips we can chase before the case is taken off the priority list."

Dylan didn't reply and Fuller left the room with another sigh. Dylan watched him go, then turned back to sorting the tips. It was nearly two hours later before he finished. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before setting the papers aside and getting to his feet. He put his coat on and left the office quickly, catching a cab to the apartment he was renting. He hadn't forgotten about Daniel—how could he after hundreds of "sightings"—so the first thing he did was grab his cell phone, the one he used for Eye business and not the one for the FBI. He closed the window shades as the phone dialed and sat down on the under stuffed sofa. The tone went straight to voicemail and Dylan cussed under his breath as Daniel's voice sounded.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it, Agent Rhodes. It's all Merritt's fault."

Dylan rolled his eyes, amused at the voicemail though he would never admit it.

"Call me back as soon as you get this, Atlas." He said gruffly. "We need to talk."

He ended the message there and looked at the time. He frowned as he did the calculations and realized the time difference made it far too late to call Alma. Now that he thought about it, it might have been too late to call Daniel. There were so many different time zones that he had to keep track of now that he could be excused for calling later then appropriate. At least, that would be his excuse when Daniel called back.

Leaning back on the couch, Dylan switched the TV on. He debated for a moment whether to fix dinner or waste his time in front of some game show, but the choice was out of his hands when a commercial come on that captured his immediate attention.

"_The Four Horsemen made their mark on the world last month with their daring robberies and escape from the FBI, but the time has come for their magic to be exposed for the trickery it is. Join me, Thaddeus Bradley, tomorrow night when I expose the Horsemen's tricks and the identity of the mastermind behind the whole plot, the Fifth Horseman." _

The commercial switched, but Dylan wasn't paying attention anymore. He stared at the TV in shock before uttering a single word:

"Crap!"


	4. The Eye

**All right, I'm excited about this chapter. It's my second personal favorite (chapter 9 is my favorite so far haha) I do want to mention, though, that I don't know if the Eye is historically based or if they just made it up (and my internet is crappy enough that I just don't have the patience to do the research I probably should) so I'm making it all up using what little the movie said and what I think would be cool in my own opinion. **

** Though I enjoyed writing this chapter, their is a little bit at the end where I think I might have gotten Dylan Rhodes out of character. However, because of the fact that in the movie he is, technically, acting we don't really know what his character is truly like. So...well, I'm not quite sure where I'm going with that...It's been a long day haha. **

** Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The action is just right around the corner now. :) To all who have reviewed, favorited, or followed-especially those who have reviewed-I want to give you all a big THANK YOU! I can't even begin to explain what it means to know that people are enjoying one of my works. So thank you! **

**Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me. **

* * *

_Chapter 4: The Eye_

Dylan reached for his phone and dialed the first number in the contacts. The Eye was a secretive organization, even to the members, but over the years Dylan had steadily rose toward the top until he learned who the Eye was. Or, at least, the spokesman for the leaders. Not many reached that point, but those did were granted the freedom to find potential members and set their tasks. When he had been allowed to enact his revenge, Dylan had been given a number with the warning to use it only in emergencies. Up until that point he hadn't used it and now he had no idea who would be on the other end.

"Ah, Mr. Shrike—or is it Rhodes now?" The voice on the other end was undoubtedly male, though Dylan didn't have a single clue as to who it might be.

"Who is this?" The question was out before he could stop it. There was one major rule in the Eye: never ask another's identity. It was how the Eye had lasted all the way from Ancient Egypt to the present times. The only ones new members ever knew the true identity of was the one who recruited them. It kept them secret and protected should any member be caught by the law and interrogated.

"You must be calling about Mr. Bradley's announcement." The voice didn't reprimand his slip up.

"Yes." Dylan replied simply.

"You made a mistake when you went to him after the final task, Mr. Shrike." The voice announced. "And all mistakes have consequences."

"He's going to expose us." Dylan said.

"You, Mr. Shrike." The voice corrected. "He is going to expose you. If you move quick enough you may be able to slow him down, but your time with the FBI is coming to an end, Mr. Shrike. The Eye has done what it can, but the ball is already in motion and there is nothing else we can do. All actions have consequences, Mr. Shrike, even actions years in the making."

And then the line went dead. Dylan moved slowly, his mind racing a mile a minute. He had planned everything so carefully; he had spent years planning, but not once did he consider Thaddeus Bradley being released. He had believed the evidence planted would be enough to insure he would spend the next few years at least behind bars. But now, now he wasn't sure what to do.

He needed to warn the Horsemen. He knew he should call them immediately, but Thaddeus Bradley needed to be stopped first. If he could just get Bradley brought in for questioning, could stop the filming of the show, he could buy some time. His mind made up, Dylan reached for his other phone and made the call.

"Fuller, it's Rhodes. Send someone to arrest Thaddeus Bradley on the charges of the obstruction of justice and withholding evidence."


	5. Revelations

**_I just want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and/or followed this story. It really does mean a lot to me and I hope the story lives up to ya'lls expectations. :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me_**

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_Chapter 5: Revelations _

"What's this about, Dylan?" Agent Fuller asked.

They were back in the FBI building, walking quickly through the halls toward the interrogation room were one Thaddeus Bradley was being held.

"Bradley knows who the mastermind is." Dylan answered, trying to work out how turn this around in his favor. "He must have known this entire time!"

"Why didn't he say anything?" Fuller asked, stopping outside the room.

"Protecting them? Trying to drive me crazy?" Dylan guessed, hiding his nervousness behind anger. "It doesn't matter why. He still withheld evidence."

"After you." Fuller said, opening the door and waiting for Dylan to enter before following.

Thaddeus Bradley was leaning back in his chair, smug grin on his face despite the handcuffs on his wrists that connected him to the table.

"Agent Fuller, Agent…Rhodes." He greeted calmly, pausing slightly before saying _Rhodes. _"Nice to see you again."

"I'd wipe that grin off your face if I was you, Bradley." Dylan sneered, playing the part of bad cop. "With the charges facing you're likely to be back in that cell by the end of the day."

"Ah yes," The grin remained in place. "Obstruction of justice and withholding evidence, isn't it? Minor inconveniences. My lawyers are already on their way with bail."

"There won't be any bail if you don't tell us what we want to know." Dylan reminded.

"Are you sure you want me to do that, Mr. Shrike?" Bradley asked, grinning in victory as Dylan froze for half a second before recovering. "You could always just watch my show tonight, then the whole world will know the truth."

"Who's Shrike?" Dylan asked, hoping his panic wasn't showing through. "Tell me what truth you are talking about!"

"Do you really want me to do that?" Bradley asked.

"You better if you want the charges dropped." Fuller spoke for the first time, looking between his partner and Bradley. "Who is the fifth Horseman?"

"You know him, Agent Fuller." Bradley kept his eyes on Dylan as he spoke. "In fact, you've worked quite closely with him."

"The Fifth Horseman is in the FBI?" Fuller asked in disbelief.

"Think about it, Agent Fuller." Bradley looked over at the agent. "The Horsemen were constantly two steps ahead of you, as if they knew exactly what you were planning the moment you planned it. Now tell me, how could they know exactly what the FBI was planning if they didn't have a man on the inside?"

"You're just trying to cover for yourself," Dylan interrupted. Time was running short and Fuller wasn't stupid. "What better way to completely clear yourself then to throw the blame?"

"He has a point, Dylan." Fuller said quietly. "They did know what we were planning almost even before we did."

"So did he!" Dylan exclaimed, pointing at the smug Bradley. "He was always there right when we arrived!"

"It isn't hard to follow the Horsemen," Bradley commented and Dylan almost froze.

Bradley hadn't spoken in the past tense; he had said _it isn't, _present tense. Bradley was mocking him. The Horsemen were in danger and he was stuck at the FBI, trying to cover his own skin.

"Dylan," Fuller's voice was slow, as if not wanting to believe what he was about to say, "Are you the Fifth Horseman?"

"What?" Dylan exclaimed with a nervous laugh. "Have you lost it, Fuller?"

"Answer me, Agent Rhodes." Fuller stood, looking down at the other man.

"Of course I'm not!" Dylan denied, standing as well and throwing his hands out. "How can you even think that? You know me, Fuller."

"All the evidence points right at you, Mr. Rhodes—or should I say Mr. Shrike?" Bradley leaned forward on the table.

"What are you talking about?" He tried to keep his voice angry, but the panic was beginning to leak through.

"I'm sorry, Dylan." Fuller apologized, looking genuinely sorry. "Mr. Bradley showed us all the evidence before you arrived. We know you're the Fifth Horseman."

"How could I possibly be the Fifth Horseman?" Dylan asked, giving it one last time. "I would have to not only approve of magic, but practice it myself and you know my opinions on that!"

"I'm sorry." Fuller replied as he raised his hand.

The door opened and three agents walked in with guns drawn. They moved quietly, forcing Dylan's hands behind him and handcuffing them. His gun was taken and the three men formed a perimeter around him. One grabbed his shoulder and forced him toward the door. As he was being led out, he turned his head to look back. Bradley sat back in the chair, smug smile still on his face.

The last thing Dylan saw before he was pushed out of the room was Bradley's hands, unshackled and folded across his chest. The handcuffs lay forgotten on the table with the key nowhere in sight.


	6. True Colors

**_Once again I just want to thank everyone who has followed, favorited, and/ or reviewed. Your support means a whole lot to me! :) I hope you enjoy this next chapter! And don't worry, the Horsemen will be coming in very soon. _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me. _**

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_Chapter 6: True Colors_

The building was in chaos. All work was stopped as the agents all gathered around to watch one of their own being led off in cuffs. Most knew what was going on, but there were still a few asking rather loudly why Rhodes was being led off. Most of the crowd watched with anger in their eyes. They had sworn their lives to stopping crime and here one of their own had been the mastermind behind the biggest robberies this century. Others, however, looked on in respect and disappointment. They were the ones who had seen the greed and corruptness of the ones the Horsemen had robbed and had secretly approved and cheered them on.

He was led to an interrogation room a little ways down from where Bradley was currently being released. There was a brief moment of deja-vu as the handcuffs were snapped around his wrists, but it disappeared as he was forcefully pushed into the seat. All but one agent left the room and the one remaining, a large redheaded man Dylan didn't know, paced the room. He knew what the man was doing—he had done it many times himself. It was one of the techniques taught in training; pace the room, make your voice loud, make the criminal uncomfortable. He had seen it work time and time again, but not this time, not on him.

"Why did you do it, Shrike?" The man finally asked, slamming his hands down on the table and leaning forward.

"I didn't do anything." He protested, still hoping that he could salvage everything. "Who is this Shrike person?"

"You should know, Dylan Shrike." The agent barked.

"My name is Rhodes." Dylan argued. "Check the records!"

"Oh we did," the agent replied, calming himself somewhat. "It's interesting how Dylan Shrike disappears at the exact same time Dylan Rhodes appears."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Maybe, just maybe he could talk himself out of this.

The agent sat down across from him and pulled out a folder. He shuffled through the papers for a moment before reading out loud:

"Lionel Shrike, debunked magician, drowned in the East River leaving behind an orphaned son, twelve year old Dylan." The agent paused and looked up. "That would put Shrike at—oh, would you look at that—your age."

"A coincidence." Dylan said through clenched teeth.

How had they found out about his true identity? He had erased all the records of him in the FBI's database, he was sure he had! That was one of the things he had been the most careful about. There was no point in having an alias if his real name could be found out with a simple Google search.

"Oh I'm sure." The agent replied sarcastically, slamming the papers down. "We know it was you, Shrike. There's no use denying it. We have all the proof we need. Now tell me, where are the Horsemen?"

It was no use, he realized. Somehow Bradley had figured out his identity and put the pieces together. He hadn't thought it possible, but then, he hadn't thought a lot of the past day's events possible. There was no getting out as Dylan Rhodes, the not-to-bright harsh magic hating FBI agent. That charade was over. Now it was time to introduce Dylan Shrike, the smart quiet magician of the Eye.

"All right, all right, I'll tell you." He sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat.

The agent leaned forward eagerly. This would be the moment that made his career: the agent who brought in the Four Horsemen and broke their leader. Dylan sighed again and moved forward as well, as if planning to be quiet. But then his hands shot out and grabbed the agent's shirt. With a quick jerk, the handcuffs clattered off his wrists and the agent's face connected with the desk. Dylan moved fast, locking the handcuffs onto the dazed man's wrists and hurrying toward the door. He ducked to the side as the door swung open and two men came in. He hit them before they saw him and left them sprayed on the floor and stumbling across the room.

He left the room at a run, narrowly avoiding another agent coming at him to the left. He weaved his way down the hall, crashing into people and leaving an obstacle course of confused government workers behind him. He turned a corner and skidded to a stop. His escape route—a fire escape at the end of the hall—was so close, but directly in front of him stood the one person he had hoped to avoid. Tom Fuller, his partner and friend, blocked his way.

"Tom." Dylan said, looking behind him to where the rest of the FBI was closing in. "Please."

Fuller just looked at him, looking genuinely sad at the turns of events. He had considered Dylan a friend, and it hurt to find out that he had been working against him on the last case, if not the entire time. His sworn duty was to stop Dylan and arrest him, but his friendship with the man was telling him to do the other. For the first time in a long time, Fuller was conflicted.

"Hit me."

The order was sudden, the voice quiet, and Dylan was sure he had misheard.

"What?" he asked, ignoring the sounds of the people getting closer.

"Hit me." Fuller repeated.

"I can't." Dylan said with a shake of his head.

"That's an order, Agent Rhodes!" Fuller barked, though he kept his voice low so none would hear their conversation. Quieter, he added, "Dylan, just hit me."

Dylan frowned and with regret, pulled his arm back and hit his friend right across the jaw, but not hard enough to do any damage. Fuller played it up and fell to the ground while Dylan raced on past him. He resisted the urge to look back and hit the fire escape at full speed. The door flew open as he hit it and almost instantly the alarm went off, drowning out the yells that came from behind him. He swung the door shut and took off down the stairs.

By the time the FBI reached the fire escape, Dylan Rhodes was gone and Dylan Shrike had disappeared into thin air.


	7. The Rest is Up To You

**_Well, I'm a bit late tonight, but better late then never haha Hope ya'll enjoy! :) Next chapter is my personal favorite, so I can't wait! :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me. _**

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_Chapter 7: The Rest is Up to You_

He was only a block away when he threw the FBI phone aside and grabbed the one he used for Eye business. Undoing his tie, he put the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." He muttered under his breath and was relieved when Henley's voice sounded with a cheery, "Hey Agent Rhodes."

"Henley, there isn't time to explain, where are you?" He looked over his shoulder and backed into an alleyway.

"The beach." Henley replied. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"I've been found out." He said quickly, explaining no further. "You have to get out of there. Bradley has men on you and the others. Just run."

"Run where?" Henley asked and he heard the sounds of her getting up and moving around.

"Anywhere, just get out of Florida. And fast."

He waited for a reply, but none came save the sound of the phone dropping.

"Henley?"

Nothing.

"Henley, answer me!"

The phone clicked off. Dylan looked down at the screen, fear coursing through him. He pressed the redial button, but the phone went straight to voicemail. He didn't try a third time. Instead, he called Daniel, but was sent straight to voicemail. He tried Merritt, then Jack, but each time the same thing happened. It took a lot to make him panic, but this was defiantly pushing him to the verge of a full on panic attack when he felt the card in his pocket.

He pulled it out, instantly recognizing it as a tarot card. He knew without having to look that it would be the Justice card, the card he had been given when he first joined the Eye all those years ago. He turned it to the back immediately and, sure enough, there was the symbol of the Eye along with an address, time, and the words "_This is all we can do. The rest is up to you." _Dylan looked at his watch and realized he had less than a minute to reach the address. He raced for the street and was relieved to find that the Eye had guessed ahead and he was already at the address. A black was parked a few cars up the block and on the license plate was the symbol of an eye. He hurried up to the card and climbed into the back, not even hesitating despite the small uncertainty he felt that he was in the right car.

A black screen separated the front of the car with the back and he knew he was in the right place. The car pulled out as soon as his door was shut, but he didn't ask where they were going. He knew better than that. Even if he did ask, he wouldn't receive an answer. The secrecy of the Eye extended to its members as well and they very rarely saw each other face to face, even in such close vicinity.

Sighing, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He had thought that by having Bradley arrested he could stop whatever the man had planned. Instead he had walked right into the trap and now the Horsemen were in danger because of his stupid mistake.

He didn't know the Horsemen very well—after all, they had only known his identity for a month—but they were still his responsibility. He had handpicked them to carry out his revenge and, after talking to them and getting to know them a little better over the last month, he had to admit he liked them. And it was all his fault that they were wanted not only by the law, but also, it seemed, by Thaddeus Bradley. There was no telling what Bradley's men had done to the, and he could only hope that they were still alive.

It was just another thing to hate Thaddeus Bradley for.


	8. Thank God for Crowds

**_This is the chapter I couldn't wait to upload, mostly because it is the first fight scene that I have ever wrote that didn't give me any trouble what-so-ever! Usually I struggle with fight scenes, but this one (as corny as it sounds) wrote itself. Plus it actually has the Horsemen...well, a Horseman... in it! haha I hope you enjoy the chapter. :) _**

**_Disclaimer: I wish Now You See Me belonged to me, but alas, it doesn't._**

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_Chapter 8: Thank God For Crowds_

Jack had grown up on the streets of New York. He had been a pickpocket, a thief, for the better part of his life. He knew when he was being followed and right now he was being followed. He was in a good sized crowd with people pushing every which way, but he _knew _he was being followed.

It had started as a feeling, uneasiness in his stomach that he had passed off as left-over fear from being chased by the FBI. Agent Rhodes had assured him when he first brought it up, though, that the FBI was nowhere near California. And on top of that, he had been reminded, he was supposedly dead; no one was expecting to find him still alive. That should have made him feel better, but the feeling remained.

He stopped abruptly, looking behind him. If someone was following him he was going to figure out. The crowd kept moving around him, but Jack ignored them, focusing instead on the man who had stopped just after he did. There was no reason for the man to stop unless the one he had been following stopped and Jack knew he was right: he was being followed. Thinking quickly, he spun around, acting as if confused and lost. Then he turned and made his way into an alley. When he reached the entrance, he quickly melted into the shadows, grateful for his black leather jacket that helped him blend in.

He saw his follower push his way through the crowd and then stop just inside the ally. The man started to enter the shadows, but paused and pulled out a phone. The noise of the city and the distance between them made it impossible to hear what was being said and the man was standing at such an angle that Jack was only able to read two words the man said: Mr. Bradley.

"Crap." Jack muttered.

How had Thaddeus Bradley found him? The last he had heard, the man was still in jail as the Fifth Horseman. There wasn't time to dwell on that, though, as the man hung up the phone and walked into the alley. Jack watched as the man pulled out a small bottle and a rag, pouring a little of the liquid onto the rag. Jack didn't know what was on the rag, but he knew whatever it was wasn't good news for him. He drew further back against the wall and crouched low. The man was larger than him by a good five inches and he really hoped the man would pass him by and he could slip back out into the crowd.

And then his phone rang.

The man's head snapped in his direction immediately. Jack cursed and sprang to his feet, Bon Jovi's _"Wanted Dead or Alive"_ still sounding from his phone. The man was startled as his prey sudden leaped to his feet just a yard or so away from him, but he recovered quickly. Jack was quicker, though, and cards magically appeared in his hands. The man didn't pause despite the confusion that spread on his face and took off toward Jack. He kept drawing closer until Jack expertly began to throw the cards, each hitting their mark—his assailants' face—even as he backed away.

"You little…" the man cursed as he held his hands up to block the onslaught of cards that were cutting and even drawing blood occasionally.

Jack took the opportunity to draw closer to his attacker and lashed out with his fist as soon as the last card had left his hand. The man stumbled but didn't fall and came back up with a feint to the right. Jack dodged to the left, only to meet the other fist. He stumbled backwards into a trash can and grabbed the lid. The man was on him in an instant, but Jack held the lid up and successfully blocked the series of punches the man sent at him, though it shoved him up against the wall in the process. Using the wall for his advantage, Jack pushed against the lid, throwing his attacker off balance. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw the rag the man had held lying discarded on the ground. Throwing the lid at the man, he dove for the rag, coming up in a roll with it in his hands. The man was on him as soon almost before he was on his feet, but Jack spun out of the way and came up behind him, holding the rag over the man's nose. The man struggled, reaching around and clawing at Jack's face. He somehow managed to avoid the man's hands and within seconds the man's movement's became slower and then stopped all together as his body went limp.

Jack released his hold on the man and backed away, panting. He looked at the rag before tossing it away and running out of the ally, blending into the crowd once more. He kept a close watch, knowing there might be more, but no one followed him. He got as far as he could from the ally before slipping into a crowded café. He pulled his phone out and saw that he had one missed called from Dylan Rhodes—the call that had told his attacker where he was. Jack quickly pressed the call back button and held it to his ear, covering the other so he could hear better.

"Jack?" Dylan sounded surprised when he answered the phone after only two rings.

"Hey, Agent Rhodes." Jack greeted. "I think we might have a small problem."

"What happened? Are you all right?" Dylan asked quickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jack answered. "Some dude was following me, but I got the drop on him. He was trying to drug me, but I turned it around and drugged him instead. Lost my last pack of cards in the process too! But he's probably still sleeping back in that alleyway."

"Good job." Dylan praised and Jack smiled. It meant a lot to be praised by his new mentor, especially since the man didn't hand them out like candy.

"What's going on, Agent Rhodes?" Jack asked. "I thought Bradley was still in jail, but the man who was following me clearly said _Mr. Bradley." _

"He got out two days ago." Dylan sighed and it suddenly struck Jack how tired the agent sounded. "He exposed me in the FBI a few minutes ago. He's had men on you and the others since the beginning, it seems, and it seems that exposing me was the start of his revenge."

"Wait, he what?" Jack wasn't sure he had heard right.

"I'll explain later." Dylan promised. "All that matters is the FBI knows about me and we have an even bigger problem on our hands. I think Bradley has the others."

"You mean he's had men following us to kidnap us?" Jack asked. "What for? I know we made him mad, but wouldn't it be easier to turn us into the FBI?"

"I don't know." Dylan replied honestly. "All I know is I was talking to Henley when the line went dead and I haven't heard from Dylan or Merritt."

"What do you want me to do?" Jack asked angrily. Bradley was asking for it now. The Horsemen were the closest he had to family and you don't touch family.

"Meet me at the airport in Topeka, Kansas in two days." Dylan said, mentally calculating the time it would take to get there. It would be pushing it, but it was plausible. "We'll figure out what to do then."

"I'll be there." Jack promised.

"We're going to get them back, Jack, I promise." Dylan hesitated before adding, "But we're on our own. The Eye can't help."

"I'll see you in two days." Jack replied and hung up.

Dylan sighed in relief as he put the phone down. The situation still wasn't good, but there was a small beacon of hope. On his own, rescuing the Four Horsemen would have been impossible. But with Jack, the odds were up, even just a little bit. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. He only had two days and there was a lot of planning to do.

* * *

_**All right, I just want to make it known that I'm terrible at geography and even worse at math so if any of the geography or any of the timing or the like is off in this and the coming chapters, then I apologize and hope you can look past it. Until tomorrow! :)**_


	9. Captive Horsemen

**_I just want to say thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, and followings! It means a lot and every e-mail makes me smile, even when I'm checking at 8 in the morning when I should really be in bed haha So thank you everyone and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :) _**

**_ Also, I just want to mention that I'm not an escape artist nor do I know how to escape modern day handcuffs (I can escape Civil War era handcuffs, but I don't think that counts haha) So if what Henley does in this chapter isn't exactly how it's done in real life, I hope you'll excuse it and enjoy the chapter regardless. :)_**

**_Disclaimer: Once again, only the plot idea belongs to me. Everything else is not mine. _**

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_Chapter 9: Captive Horsemen_

The first thing Henley was aware of was the pounding in her head. The second was the handcuffs locking her hands behind her back. And the third was that she wasn't alone in the dark room. She remained as still as she could while feeling the handcuffs, hoping whoever was with her would think her asleep and give her time to escape. The cuffs appeared to be standard police handcuffs and she smiled into the darkness. After all, she was an escape artist.

A scuffling noise froze her hands. She closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer—_Please don't be rats; please don't be rats!_ Something nudged her boot and it was all she could not to scream. A second nudge and she just barely managed to choke back a scream, her mind running wild with the thoughts of being in a pitch black room with rats. Her heart was racing and all she could think was _Don't be a rat! Don't be a rat!_ when….

"Henley?"

"Danny?" she twisted around, vainly trying to see her friend in the darkness.

"It's Daniel." She could practically see his frown, even though all she could see was black.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, deciding to pass the opportunity to tease the man. "Better yet, where is _here_?"

"I don't know." Daniel answered.

"How long have you been here, then?" she tried.

"Best guess? Two, three hours." Daniel answered. "At least, that I've been awake."

"How did they catch you?" Henley asked. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark and she could just barely make out Daniel's form.

"What is this? Twenty questions?" He sighed. "I was walking the street, then got jumped and drugged with something."

"Chloroform." Henley supplied the _something._ "At least, that's what they caught me with." She gasped, a thought coming to her. "Agent Rhodes!"

"What about him?" Daniel asked, not sure he wanted to know why Henley knew the smell of chloroform.

"I was talking to him when they caught me." Henley explained. "He had to have heard something."

"What good would that do?" Daniel asked pessimistically. "We don't know where we are or who kidnapped us and neither does he. He probably just figures you dropped the phone or something."

"Yes, because I would not call him back when he was warning me that…" she paused, racking her still drug-hazy brain for the memory to resurface.

"Warning you about what?" Daniel asked when she fell silent.

"I can't…" she paused as the memory resurfaced. "Bradley! He was warning me that Bradley had exposed him and had men following each of us."

"What?" Daniel exclaimed. "Bradley is in jail! How could he…"

"Do you not watch the news?" Henley interrupted. "He was released two days ago."

"But the evidence!" Daniel said in shock. He, like the others, had believed the evidence was stacked against the debunker and would keep him behind bars for several years at the least.

"His TV crew and Arthur Tressler provided him with an alibi." Henley explained. "And the possession of the money wasn't enough to keep him in jail, not with his lawyers."

If Daniel was going to reply, he was cut off by the sound of a deadbolt unlocking and a door swinging open. Light flooded the room, blinding the two prisoners. With her eyes barely cracked open, Henley was just able to make out the blurry shapes of two men forcing another into the room. The man stumbled, but kept his balance and turned back to face the men who had pushed him.

"Trust me, friend, she's no good for you. She's been cheating on you for months now. Just ask that fellow beside you. He's seen quite a bit of her, haven't you, sir?"

There was only one man she knew who would know that and say it to his captors. Merritt McKinney had arrived.

"Shut up!" One of their captors snarled, slamming the door shut and plunging the room into darkness again.

"Well that was rude." Merritt commented, sounding quite cheery considering the circumstances.

"Merritt!" Henley announced their presence.

"Hello there, Henley dear." She didn't have to see him to know Merritt had a flirtatious smile on his face. "I thought that flash of red I saw was you. I suppose that makes the bundle of blankets Danny boy."

"Don't call me that!" Daniel ordered through clenched teeth.

"Do you know where we are, Merritt?" Henley asked quickly before an insults match could begin. Feeling better knowing the room wasn't full of rats, she began working on the handcuffs once more.

"I am insulted, my dear lady." Merritt replied dramatically. "How could you think so low of my abilities that I could possibly not know where we are?"

"Well where are we?" Daniel asked, really not in the mood for any of Merritt's antics.

"No clue." Merritt answered happily. When the other two groaned, he laughed and added, "I'm kidding. We're in a rather large mansion about ten miles outside of New Orleans belonging, I suspect, to one Mr. Thaddeus Bradley."

"Are you sure it's Bradley?" Daniel asked.

"Positive." Merritt explained, though he made no move to explain who he was so sure.

"There was a click and Henley gave a small cheer. She had finally managed to free one hand and she brought it around, rubbing to help the blood flow. She didn't say anything as she got to her feet and, one hand on the wall, began making her away across the room to where the door had been. She had only gone a few feet when she felt what had to be a light switch.

"And then there was light."

She flipped the switch and light flooded the room again, blinding the occupants. As their eyes began to adjust, they were able to see the room for the first time. It wasn't a large room, but it was decently sized with no furniture to be seen. The walls were white and completely blank without so much as a nail. The ceiling were high and, with nothing in the room to stand on, neither of the three captives would be able to reach it for the only air duct to serve as an escape. There was only one exit at first glance, that being the dead bolted door.

"Well this is comfy." Merritt commented.

Daniel just rolled his eyes and struggled to get to his feet. He and Merritt stood there awkwardly, hands cuffed behind them, as Henley studied the door, her own cuffs hanging from one hand.

"I don't suppose either of you have a lock pick, do you?" Henley asked, turning to face the two.

"No." Daniel answered.

"That's Jack's equipment." Merritt said with a shrug.

"Where is Jack?" Daniel asked. "They got us, what about him?"

"He's supposedly dead." Merritt reminded. "They probably think it's just us three now."

The three fell silent and Henley fiddled with the remaining handcuff for a moment before it fell open with a click. She dropped the cuffs to the ground and rubbed her raw wrist. Daniel and Merritt watched her and silently wished they had gone into the escape arts instead of their own magic.

"Remind me to learn how to escape handcuffs when we get out of here." Merritt commented, hoping she would get the hint.

"Here, let me see." Henley said.

She walked over and bent down to fiddle with Merritt's handcuffs. It took several minutes, but the handcuffs finally clicked free and Merritt brought his hands around.

"Thank you, dear lady." He said theatrically as Henley stood and moved to Daniel.

Though Daniel could escape handcuffs sometimes—he had proven that in the interrogation room—there was a huge difference in freeing yourself when you can see your hands and when you can't.

"Quit squirming or I'll just leave them on!" Henley warned.

Daniel bit back a not-so-nice remark, knowing she would carry through with her threat, and stayed as still as he could. After several minutes, he too was free. The three looked around for a few moments before Merritt spoke the question on all of their minds:

"Now what?"


	10. The Challenge is Dropped

**_I'm not going to talk (uh, write) long, I just want to say thank you all so much for all the support on this story! Every comment has been positive and I'm so happy that everyone seems to be enjoying the story. Here's a nice long chapter that I hope ya'll enjoy. :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. _**

* * *

_Chapter 10: The Challenge is Dropped_

"_In a shocking turn of events yesterday the FBI released the identity of the Fifth Horseman, previously believed to have been Thaddeus Bradley. The mastermind behind the robberies was none other than Dylan Rhodes, the agent who was originally assigned the Horsemen's case. Though no reason as to why Rhodes orchestrated the robberies has been officially released, we have been informed that tonight's episode of __Unmasked with Thaddeus Bradley__ will focus on the Four Horsemen and reveal not only their tricks, but always why the robberies were even committed." _

Dylan ducked his head as he passed in front of the TV. Two days had passed since his true identity had been discovered and he had been forced to run. He had been surprised when his name hadn't been appeared on the news that very night, but he had been grateful. It had been too good to last, he knew. He had made it to the airport in Topeka after three cabs, two busses, and one…rental…car. Normally he would have flown—and he had seriously considered it after that first bus—but in the end the risk of being recognized was too great. Now he only hoped Jack had been able to get to the airport without being caught.

Someone rammed into his shoulder and he was thrown off balance.

"Sorry." The man muttered, not pausing as he kept walking.

Dylan caught his balance and turned to see who had bumped him and saw him walking off, running a hand along his leather jacket. Dylan froze and looked down at his now watch-less wrist. Shaking his head, he turned and followed the man around the corner where none other than Jack Wilder leaned against the wall, smug grin on his face and a watching in his hand.

"Really?" Dylan asked, stepping in front of the pickpocket.

"Yep." Jack grinned and held the watch out. "Can't be getting rusty now, can I?"

Dylan just shook his head and put his watch back on. Neither spoke as they left the airport, keeping their heads low as they passed TV screens with their faces all over them, and made their way to the car Dylan had…rented. It was only once they were on the road the two began talking.

"So how did they find out?" Jack asked the question that he had been wondering for two days.

"Bradley." Dylan replied simply, hoping Jack wouldn't ask for more than that.

"But how did he know? We didn't even know until a month ago!"

So much for hiding his mistake.

"I may have told him when he was first arrested."

Jack didn't reply, but by the look he gave the older man, it was clear Jack didn't understand why Dylan would do that after waiting so long for his revenge. He didn't voice his thoughts, though, and for that Dylan was grateful. The Horsemen knew who he really was, but they didn't know the full reason behind why he had planned what he had. They could guess, of course, and they had probably guessed close enough to the truth, but they weren't for sure and he didn't plan to tell them, not if he could help it. That part of his life was over now; it was time to move on. If circumstances would let him, that is.

"So how did the trip from California go?" He changed the subject.

"Pretty good." Jack answered. "The plane ride did make me miss Tressler's jet though. Nowhere near as comfortable."

"You took a plane?" Dylan glanced over at the younger man who just shrugged. "What if you had been recognized?"

"Oh I was." Jack replied cheerfully.

"What?" Dylan all but shouted, swerving the car slightly in surprise.

"I got asked several time if I was "that poor magician boy who was killed by the big bad FBI"," Jack grinned, imitating a woman's voice. "They were all so sorry when I told them I was his close cousin, Gene."

"Gene Wilder?" Dylan shook his head, but he couldn't but be amused. Only Jack could get away with that. "Really? That was the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, I thought it was pretty good." Jack laughed.

Dylan chuckled and shook his head before turning serious.

"Funny or not, you still shouldn't have risked it. What if you had been caught?"

"Then I'd have escaped." Jack replied matter-of-factly. "I learned a few tricks from Henley over the past year."

"Still." Dylan said and he left it at that.

There were a few moments of silence before Jack spoke up again.

"Where are we going?"

"South." Dylan answered.

"Why south?"

"It was Bradley who took them," Dylan explained. "And Bradley lives near New Orleans. It's a guess, but the best guess I've got."

"How do you know he hasn't turned them into the FBI?" Jack asked with a frown. "Why would he keep them at his own home?"

"It would be all over the news if the FBI had them," Dylan explained. "He hasn't turned them in so he's holding them for some reason and he's the kind of man who would want them close at hand if something went wrong in his plan."

A few seconds of silence ticked by before Jack hesitantly asked the main question on his mind.

"Do you think they're ok?"

"I don't know, kid." He replied honestly. "All I know for sure is that we are going to find them and Bradley will pay."

"How?" Jack questioned, looking down at his hands. The full situation had finally sunk in and he wasn't sure what they, just two men on the run, could do. "We don't know where they are and we're wanted. The law could be on its way right now to take us in."

Dylan didn't reply for a moment. He knew Jack was worried about his friends, and he wanted to comfort the kid, but at the same time he didn't want to give him any false hope.

"We're smart, Jack," He finally said, "And I know how the FBI works. You're good in a fight—don't try and deny it. I fought you, remember?—and I'm good at hiding in plain sight. The law won't be able to touch us. Sooner or later Bradley will have to make his move and when he does, we'll be ready for him."

"How can you be so sure?" Jacked asked, sounding for all it was worth like a little kid.

"I waited thirty-three years to get revenge for my father's death," Dylan replied quietly, hoping he hid the pain that loss still gave him, "It's because of me that we're even in this mess. No matter how long it takes, I will find them, Jack. That's a promise."

"Not alone you're not." Jack gave him a small smile. "Just tell me what I need to do, Agent Rhodes, and I'll do it if it means saving them."

"That's the spirit." Dylan smiled back. "But that's enough of that Agent Rhodes crap. It's just Dylan now, ok."

"All right, Age…" Jack caught himself quickly, "Dylan."

They drove for several hours in relative silence. Jack turned the radio on, but it was mostly static so he amused himself by shuffling the new deck of cards he had got at the airport. He made a mental note to get a new deck the next time they stopped; a good magician always had a spare deck of cards, after all.

He was in mid-shuffle when the phone rang.

Dylan reacted quickly, but the surprise on his face showed that he hadn't been expecting any calls. The number that appeared surprised him even more.

"It's Merritt." He announced, answering the phone with a quick, "Merritt! Are you all right?"

"Hello, Mr. Shrike." Defiantly not Merritt.

"Bradley." Dylan's grip tightened on the phone as Jack sat upright, mouthing the word _speaker_ to him. Dylan nodded and pressed the speaker button, holding it down so they could both hear. "Where are they?"

"All in good time, Mr. Shrike." Bradley chuckled. "First I have to ask, how is life on the run treating you?"

Dylan remained silent.

"No answer?" Bradley sounded amused. "What about you then, Mr. Wilder? Though I suppose being on the run isn't a new thing to you, is it?"

Jack looked over at Dylan who shook his head, warning him to remain silent. There was no way of telling if Bradley knew for sure that Jack was with him or if he was just fishing.

"Where are they, Bradley?" Dylan repeated. "What have you done with them?"

"You're Horsemen are fine," Bradley assured. "But I can't promise how long that will remain unless I get what I want."

"What do you want?" He had to force the words out.

"You, Mr. Shrike. Turn yourself in to me and I'll let your little pets go."

"How do I know you'll let them go?" Dylan asked after a moment.

"You don't." Bradley replied. "You have one week, Mr. Shrike, or your Horsemen die."

Dylan took a deep breath, wanting to close his eyes but knowing he had to keep driving.

"Where?"

"I have a place outside of New Orleans," Bradley answered, confirming Dylan's earlier guess. "You have one week, Mr. Shrike. Don't be late."

The line clicked off. Dylan placed the phone down and looked out at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. Both men were silent, the full of weight of what was going to happen settling in. Jack began shuffling the cards once more, a nervous and comforting action. Dylan just stared ahead, knowing he would have to give Bradley exactly what he wanted. He couldn't risk the Horsemen's lives, not when he wasn't in control to keep them alive.

"How long will it take to get to New Orleans?" Jack finally broke the silence.

"Too long." Dylan answered gruffly. "The only way we'd make it in time is if we flew."

"When could we get there if we flew?" Jack asked, looking straight ahead.

"Tomorrow."

"Then we'll fly." Jack decided. "Then we can find his place and come up with a plan to rescue the others."

"No." Dylan said firmly, hating himself for saying it. "It's too risky."

"And racing to New Orleans in a stolen car isn't?" Jack shot back angrily. "You know Bradley's not going to release them if you turn yourself in and he can't kill them now or he'll lose his bargaining chips."

"He doesn't need them all." Dylan said, flinching at how cold-blooded he sounded. "It's me he wants. If he has me he might keep his word and release them."

It sounded ridiculous even to him.

"You know better than that," Jack scoffed. "He wants us as bad as you and you know it. You may have masterminded everything, but we're the ones who actually pulled it all off and planted the evidence to have him arrested. If you turn yourself in then he'll have no use for them anymore."

"Then what do we do?" Dylan asked, not missing the fact that the so called mastermind was completely out of ideas.

"We fly to New Orleans and scout the area." Jack replied, looking over at Dylan for the first time. "You're smart; I know you could come up with something to save them if you had the time."

"You're confidence in me is touching, Jack." Dylan sighed, knowing he had lost. "I only hope it's not misplaced."

Jack's answer was instant.

"It's not."


	11. Kill Me Now

_**No note tonight except to say thank you for all the support and I hope you enjoy! :) **_

_**Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me **_

* * *

_Chapter 11: Kill Me Now_

"I went on a trip and on that trip I took an atlas." Merritt laughed. "See what I did there?"

"We saw it the first fifty times!" Daniel exclaimed, hitting his head against the wall.

"Well if you would actually play instead of whining '_This is stupid'_ every time you forget an item I wouldn't have to start over so much." Merritt reminded, doing a good—though rather high pitched—imitation of Daniel.

"Well it is stupid!" Daniel snapped.

After spending who-knows-how-long stuck in the same room with a silent-and-desperate-to-escape woman and a giant five year old, Daniel could be excused for going stir crazy. Henley, being an escape artist, couldn't accept that Bradley had built a magician-proof room and was almost constantly searching the room over and over again, certain she had missed something somewhere that could provide their escape. Merritt was content to just sit around and play kid games until they were rescued. He knew it was how the older man hid his nervousness, but it still drove Daniel crazy.

It was just too much for Daniel's controlling nature. He was used to being in control or, at least, able to manipulate the situation in the direction he wanted. Being forced to just sit their hour after hour with nothing to look forward to except the two times a day—at least, he guessed it was twice a day, making it two days since they had been kidnapped—when a simple meal of mystery meat, potatoes, and water was shoved through a slit under the door that was then locked immediately afterwards and was only unlocked again when it was time for the dishes to be collected.

It was safe to say that, unless help came quickly—and by quickly he meant within the next five minutes—Daniel was going to be driven well and truly insane.

"Fine." Merritt pouted, though he really didn't care. Truth be told he just didn't like the silence. It was unnerving and for Merritt, the best way to get rid of anything unnerving was to joke. "If you won't play then I'll just have to go back to singing!"

"No!" Daniel and Henley exclaimed, but it was too late as Merritt had cleared his throat and begun singing horribly off key.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down and pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"

"Kill me now." Daniel groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"That can be arranged, Mr. Atlas." Thaddeus Bradley's voice echoed in the room and the three magicians looked around the room, almost expecting the man to appear out of thin air. "However I still have a use for you so I suppose it will have to wait until later."

"Well that's one way to kill the mood," Merritt mumbled.

"Better to kill the mood then have your friend kill you, Mr. McKinney." Bradley's voice replied.

"What do you want with us, Bradley?" Daniel asked, getting to his feet and looking at the ceiling for any sign of a hidden camera. They hadn't seen any, but you could never tell with how small technology was getting.

"Not there, Mr. Atlas." Bradley ignored the question. "The other corner. Ah, that's better. I like to see who I'm talking to."

"Then why don't you come down here and talk to us face to face?" Henley asked, looking to the far corner where a red light that hadn't been there before blinked on and off.

"I could," Bradley replied. "But we can't risk having the bait escape the trap before the prey is caught, now can we?"

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked.

"You're bait, boy." Bradley replied as if talking to a little kid. "The little worm that will draw in the big fish."

"Agent Rhodes." Merritt said, all humor gone.

"And your young friend, Jack." Bradley added. "I must say, I was rather surprised when he escaped. I misjudged him, but that won't happen again."

"Why haven't you turned us in already?" Henley asked, hiding her relief at the news that Jack was still alive. She had been worried sick when he never appeared.

"He wants his revenge himself." Merritt supplied, not needing to see the man to know that for certain. "Isn't that right, Bradley?"

"You are good, Mr. McKinney." Bradley chuckled. "But why should I tell you what I have planned?"

"Because the villains usually do." Merritt replied without missing a beat.

"This isn't an action movie, Mr. McKinney," Bradley reminded. "How can you be so sure I'm the villain? Where is this so-called Eye that you were so eager to join? Shouldn't they have been here by now?" Bradley laughed. "Everything isn't always black and white. The world is full of gray areas."

The red light blinked once more, then faded away and the room fell silent once more. The three captives looked at each and, without a word being said, knew the situation had just worsened ten-fold. They were bait and their only hope for rescue would walk right into the trap built for them. What little hope that remained fell away as the realization that they most likely wouldn't be making it out of this alive fully hit them.

Daniel sank back down to the floor and rested his head against the wall, eyes closed and shoulders drooping. Henley just turned back to the door and continued checking the hinges for the thousandth time. Merritt looked between his two friends and could practically feel the hopelessness filling the air. And so he did the only thing he could think to do.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…"


	12. Not Long Now

**_First off, I want to apologize for being so late with this chapter. It's been a busy few days with a reenactment over the weekend and a funeral all day yesterday. It's a short chapter, but it's got some fairly important stuff. I hope you enjoy. :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me. _**

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****_Chapter 12: Not Long Now_

Thaddeus Bradley switched the camera off and turned in his chair to study the two men behind him. His plan was, save one or two minor issues, going perfectly. Now, however, the next part of the plan took the situation out of his hands and into the hands of the two hired men behind him. He didn't like it, preferring to be in control himself, but sacrifices had to be made for the greater of the plan.

He studied the men with a frown. They were both dressed in suits; the taller of the two was clearly the one in charge as his hands were clasped behind his back while the other held a small laptop. They were men he didn't know; they were hired by his attorney based on his orders for men capable of using the most modern technology available.

"Do you have them?" he asked.

The shorter man stepped forward and opened the laptop and showed it to Bradley. The screen held a map of what looked to be the state of Kansas. A red blinking dot was moving slowly away from the town of Topeka.

"Yes sir, Mr. Bradley." The other man answered. "The tracker on the phone was activated successfully and any calls now made or received will be sent to your phone with them completely unaware."

"You're sure of that?" Bradley asked.

"Positive, sir." The man replied instantly. "It is the latest technology and the FBI themselves use it."

"Shrike is a former FBI agent," Bradley frowned.

"It doesn't matter." The other man spoke for the first time. "Unless the phone is taken apart there is no sign that anything is even wrong with the phone. He'll remain completely unaware until he is in your hands."

"Good." Bradley said, watching the dot on the screen.

It wouldn't be long now until all the Horsemen were in his hands. He took the computer from the man and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He watched the dot for several moments as the door was shut behind them. No sooner had they gone then his phone rang. He glanced at the number, disappointed to find it wasn't his prey.

"Mr. Tressler," He greeted, "You're doing well I trust."

"Do you have them?" The multi-millionaire cut straight to the point.

"All but Shrike." No need to admit his one failure. As far as Tressler was concerned, he had all four of the Horsemen in his custody.

"I don't like this." Tressler said, sounding to Bradley like an old broken record. "If the law found out…"

"Then it will be my head on the chopping block, not yours," Bradley interrupted. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation.

"Nevertheless," Bradley resisted the urge to groan. "If anything goes wrong, you are on your own. I will not bail you out."

"And I wouldn't ask you to." Like he would ever ask the arrogant millionaire for anything after this was over.

"So long as we're clear." Tressler sounded as if he were the one in charge.

_Well,_ Bradley thought, _if it means the money keeps coming…_

"We're clear, Mr. Tressler."

The multi-millionaire didn't reply and the phone clicked dead. Bradley replaced his phone and looked back at the blinking dot. Yes, it wouldn't be long now.


	13. A Helping Hand

**_Hope you're enjoying the story. Things are going to really start heating up here in just a few chapters. :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me._**

* * *

_Chapter 13: A Helping Hand_

They were still driving, looking for an out-of-the-way airport, nearly three hours after Bradley's call. There wasn't much talking, only an occasional question as Jack tried to read the map. Eventually he had just given up and been content reading off the road signs, much to Dylan's annoyance. It was frustrating not knowing where you are with a perfectly good map and a terrible navigator.

He finally had as much as he could take and pulled over. They were getting ready to switch seats when Dylan's phone rang. He grabbed it quickly, expecting it to be Bradley again, and was surprised when the emergency number for the Eye appeared on the screen.

"Hello?" he answered, not putting the phone on speaker much to Jack's dismay.

"_If anyone asks, this conversation never took place_." The voice was female, one he had never heard before.

"Of course." Dylan replied, thinking that the conversation was sounding like the cheesiest line in a cheap action film.

"_I shouldn't be doing this,"_ the woman said, sounding almost as if she were going to back down.

"Doing what?" Dylan asked, ignoring the curious looks Jack was sending his way.

"_Helping you."_ The woman replied. She hesitated, but then continued with a strong voice. "_You need a plane to New Orleans, do you not?"_

"How did you…" Dylan began, but was cut off.

"_The Eye is everywhere, Mr. Shrike._" The woman replied mysteriously, "_I don't have long so listen closely. There is a small town fifty miles south of Topeka called Thrive. When can you be there?" _

"Uh," Dylan hesitated and reached for the map. Studying it quickly, he answered, "One, two hours tops."

"_Be at the old abandoned airport at exactly 9:30." _The woman said after a moment. "_I've arranged for a small plane to take yourself and Mr. Wilder to New Orleans. I only wish I could do more." _

"Thank you." Dylan said, completely mystified, but grateful nonetheless. "Why are you doing this?"

There was a pause as the woman debated whether or not to answer.

"_9:30, Mr. Shrike. Don't be late." _

And with that, she hung up. Dylan put his phone down slowly, shocked at the sudden turn of events. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already past 7:30. It would be a close race to reach Thrive by 9:30.

"Who was it?" Jack asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"The Eye." Dylan answered, memorizing the map—it wouldn't do to have Jack get them lost when they had precious little time—before pulling back out onto the road.

"The Eye?" Jack repeated. "I thought we were on our own."

"So did I." Dylan replied. "Apparently we have a friend high in the system."

"What did he say?" Jack asked, not really caring about the system.

Dylan glanced over at the younger man and gave a small grin.

"We have a plane to catch.

* * *

They reached the small town of Thrive with fifteen minutes to spare, thanks to Dylan's lead foot. The town was small, only around 300 people, so the airport wasn't difficult to find and they pulled in at 9:20. A small plane, big enough to hold maybe five people, was parked on the runway. Dylan shut the car off and moved to open the door when Jack reached out and stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"How do we know it isn't a trap?"

"It isn't." Dylan replied, completely confident in the Eye.

"How do you know?" Jack stressed. "I just do." Dylan replied.

Jack frowned. He didn't like risking his life because of a call that may or may not have come from the Eye. If something happened to them, then the others were as good as dead. He had become a fugitive for the Eye—heck, he had fake died for them—but he wasn't one to trust blindly, not with lives at stake. And that was exactly what Dylan wanted him to do.

"What if it's a trap?" He repeated.

"We'll find out soon enough."

With that, Dylan shook his hand off and climbed out of the car and headed toward the plane. Jack cursed under his breath, but got out of the car and hurried to catch up. The plane door was open with a ladder leading up to the door. Dylan wasted no time in climbing the ladder, but Jack hesitated just a second before following, closing the door behind him as he did. Sitting in the seat across from Dylan, he quickly buckled up and sat their nervously, hoping he hadn't made a horrible mistake. The plane roared to life and started down the runway.

"New Orleans by morning." Dylan announced as they pulled into the air.

"What?" Jack asked.

Dylan held out a card which Jack instantly recognized as the Justice tarot card. On the back, below the symbol of the Eye, were the words _New Orleans by morning_. Jack looked up at Dylan and briefly wished he had the same faith in the Eye as the ex-FBI agent did. Then he looked out the window at the night sky and prayed they weren't walking straight into Bradley's hands.


	14. Scout's Honor

**_I'm sorry...I'm so sorry for how long it has taken to get this chapter up! (Also, sorry for the Doctor Who reference. British TV has overtaken my life at the moment haha) I kept meaning to type it up, but I always found something better to do-mainly Sherlock Fanfiction-but I forced myself to do it tonight so here it is! So long overdue, but better late then never, right? haha Thank you to all who have stuck with this story and have reviewed, favorited, or followed, it means a ton! I hope you enjoy! :) _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me doesn't belong to me. _**

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_Chapter 14: Scout's Honor_

The plane landed at what appeared to be a private runway outside of New Orleans. The two fugitives climbed out of the plane, Jack half-expecting to be shot or arrested or something the entire time. To his relief, nothing happened and he followed Dylan toward the car that sat just a ways from the plane. Dylan, out of habit, headed for the driver's side, leaving Jack to go to the passenger side. Inside, they found the Death card sitting on the console, the words _Good luck_ printed on the back.

Dylan started the car and they pulled out onto the road that led to New Orleans. They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts. Dylan was already thinking of a plan of attack, starting with finding and scouting Bradley's place. Jack's thoughts, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. There was something about all this that struck him as wrong. When it came to him, he blurted it out immediately, sure he had hit on something.

"Bradley was able to find us even after we disappeared."

"What?" Dylan asked, completely missing what had been said.

"Even though no one but you and the Eye knew were we were," Jack repeated, clarifying his thought. "Bradley still found us. He knew where we were long enough to have men following each of us at least two weeks. So where is he now?"

"Where is who?" Dylan asked, his mind still running through his plans.

"Bradley." Jack replied. "He had men on us, he probably had a man on you, so where is he now? He could follow us easily, so why isn't he?"

"Why should he?" Dylan proposed. "While he has the others he'll believe he has us right where he wants us."

"He doesn't?" Jack asked, still not sure.

"He won't be expecting us until the end of the week," Dylan replied. "If we can scout his place out, we can turn the tables and surprise him."

"You have a plan?"

"Half a plan."

"What is it?"

"Well first we have to figure out where Bradley lives." Dylan revealed. "Then we go out there, scout the area, and come up with the rest."

"Just like that?" Jack asked uncertainly.

"Just like that." Dylan replied confidently.

Jack frowned, wishing he had the confidence Dylan had. Neither spoke until they pulled into the outskirts of New Orleans. Dawn was just beginning to break, but already the city had begun to come alive as people began making their ways to work. It was Dylan who broke the silence, simply warning Jack to be on the lookout for a good sized store, preferably a Wal-Mart or something. If they were going to be scouting a place out in the middle of nowhere, as he was sure they would have to, then he needed regular clothing ad not a suit. It didn't take them long to find an open store and within thirty minutes Dylan had two new sets of clothing and Jack had bought another deck of cards.

Once the shopping was done and breakfast had been eaten, they went to the local courthouse and, after a bit of bribing, were able to find the location of Bradley's home. Actually finding the place proved to be difficult. It was ten miles outside of New Orleans, with the last mile being a one lane wooded drive. After three missed turns, the fugitives found the road and parked the car, hiding it as best they could without the risk of it getting stuck. The last mile would be made on foot to prevent being spotted before they were ready. It was a difficult walk, made longer by the terrain they had to cross in order to avoid being spotted by any car that might drive past.

The house, when they finally reached it, nearly took their breath away. It was a beautiful old southern plantation style house. It was huge, with the drive ending in a loop directly in front of the front porch entrance. The trees had been cut back on all sides, leaving several hundred feet of yard between the nearest cover and the house. If it wasn't for the cars parked in the front and the people in modern clothing walking the perimeter it would almost seem an out of time place.

Dylan studied the area for a moment before moving back into the trees, motioning for Jack to follow. When he spoke it was at a whisper.

"We need to cover the area and find every entrance, exit, and weakness. I'll go left, you go right. Keep low and out of sight. If you see anything, call me but keep it quiet and pull back away from the edge of the trees."

Jack nodded in understanding.

"What if one of us is caught?"

"Then the other has to save himself." Dylan replied. "We're no good to the others if we're both captured."

Jack frowned, not liking that at all, but he knew Dylan was right. The older man noticed the disapproving look that flashed across Jack's face and was quick to add:

"You have to leave if I'm captured, Jack. Just like I have to leave if you are."

"I know." Jack replied, but Dylan knew the other man's loyalty, even after only a short time.

"Then swear to it." Dylan said, cutting off Jack's protest. "Swear you'll leave, Jack."

"I swear." Jack frowned and, when it looked like Dylan was going to say something about it, added, "Scout's honor."

"You were a boy scout?" Dylan asked in surprise.

"I'll meet you back here in an hour." Jack said with a grin, ignoring the previous question. Then he moved off to the right, leaving Dylan to go left without another word.

It was rough going, made rougher by the fact that both men were used to concrete and crowds, not vines and branches. It was difficult, too, to stay in sight of the house, but out of sight of the guards that patrolled the perimeter. Jack wondered if they were their normally or if they were only there because of them. It was frustrating, he thought as he studied the house and surrounding area, being so close and yet so far from his friends. That was, of course, if they were really there and Bradley hadn't simply led them into a trap.

Jack shook that thought from his mind as his phone vibrated. Moving as quietly and quickly as he could, he moved back into the trees and answered the phone with a whispered, "Yeah?"

"I think I have a way in," Dylan's voice was low and hard to understand, "The kitchen door is on this side and no one seems to use it except for one or two, but it's left partially open."

"Is there any cover?" Jack asked.

"Bushes right beside it," Dylan answered, "But completely open otherwise. What about your side?"

"A few windows, but that's all." Jack reported. "Any sign of the others?"

"None." Dylan sighed. "He's probably keeping them in one of the inner rooms or a basement."

"Or they might not be here." Jack said hesitantly. "It could just be a trap."

"We'll have to risk it." Dylan replied. "I'm going to check the back, you go back to the front and wait for me."

"Yes sir." Jack said, silently praying the man wouldn't do anything foolish.

He closed the phone, sticking it back in his pocket, and looked back at the house once more. He nearly jumped when he saw the man at the window. Thaddeus Bradley was looking out over his land, phone in hand, and it almost felt as if he was looking right at him. Jack shook that thought off—it was to cliché; Bradley wasn't looking right at him!—and turned to go back. He completely missed the smug grin on Bradley's face.


	15. Be Ready

**_I am sorry for how long this chapter has taken. I am so sorry (I had to make the Doctor Who reference haha) It has been a hectic few weeks for me as I was moving and then settling into a new routine and what not. The good news, though, is that I am finally settled in and, so long as work doesn't overload me, I should be back on schedule to upload a chapter at least once a week, if not more. Hopefully. _**

**_ I know this chapter isn't up to the usual length, but sometimes ya just can't help it. The next chapter will be much longer, I promise. Until then, I hope you are still enjoying this story and are excited for the release of the movie on DVD on Tuesday! :D _**

**_Disclaimer: Now You See Me still doesn't belong to me._**

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_Chapter 15: Be Ready_

The phone clicked off, signaling the end of the call. Bradley moved to the window and looked out. All appeared normal save the guards who patrolled the perimeter, but he knew better. He knew his enemy was out there right now, surveying his home, searching for weak points. There were several, Bradley knew, but he had made no more to fix them. No, he wanted them to get in. He wanted them to think he was getting cocky, only so they could get cocky themselves and fall right into his hands.

He turned and walked to his living room where he saw down in front of the open laptop. The red dot was flashing, moving away from his house. Bradley had never thought he would say it, but thank God for advances in technology, otherwise he would still have to have a man following them and that would never do, not with the boy with him. He had received a report from the man who trailed Wilder and he hadn't liked what he had heard. The boy was a wild card, the one thing he had not planned on. He hadn't expected one so young to be so difficult, nor to turn the tables on the man who by all rights should have caught him by surprise. But what's done is done. The boy was with Shrike and there was nothing he could do. Until, that is, they made their move.

And they would soon, before the week was over. They would try to be sneaky to get a step ahead, but he was ten steps ahead of them. Shrike was smart, but he was smarter. They were running on emotions, he was biding his time. As the saying goes, revenge is a dish best served cold. And for Thaddeus Bradley, the colder the better.

"Mr. Bradley?" It was one of the new guards he had hired just the day before. "The room has been prepared, when do you want the prisoners moved?"

"Tomorrow." Bradley answered. "Alert your men and tell them to be ready. The show is about to begin."


End file.
